Robert Marotto, requiescat in pace.
Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side.
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling.
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow,
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow.
Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so.
But if you come, and all the flowers are dying
And if I'm dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an Ave there for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,
And o'er my grave shall warmer, sweeter be,
And ye will bend and tell me that you love me,
Then I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.